


Men of Mystery

by XIntensity_FallsX



Series: Reincarnated Falls AU [2]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Action/Adventure, Bill needs to not take gold from strangers, Bill's less of a mess in this one, Billford - Freeform, Characters with past trauma, Giant Spiders, Human bill, M/M, Modern AU, Nerds on an adventure gone wrong, Spiders, Young Stan Twins, more conman bromance between Bill and Stanley, there's some background ocs in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 19:46:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10793511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XIntensity_FallsX/pseuds/XIntensity_FallsX
Summary: Stanford Pines returns to Gravity Falls to stay with Stanley for another weekend. While he's there, he gets deeper into the town's mystery, and tries to scratch the surface of Bill Cipher's elusive behavior. He's brought his good friend Fiddleford McGucket along for the ride this time, as the two of them go off to explore some of the forest surrounding the town. For better or worse, adventure awaits them both.Part two of an AU where Stanley gets to Gravity Falls first with Bill Cipher in tow.





	Men of Mystery

**Author's Note:**

> Okay! So. Here we go, another part in the AU. I suggest reading this part first: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10551214
> 
> This one happened as I had an idea about spider metaphors. This fic has more spiders than I'd care to think about, FYI. If they give you the serious willies, this may not be a good read for you. I'm happy with how this turned out, and I hope that you all enjoy it. Bill is less of a mess here than he was in the previous chapters, but the same warning still applies- this version is a reincarnated Bill. You do get more of his past in this part, along with meeting some familiar faces in Preston Northwest and Fiddleford McGucket. Fiddleford has his usual role here, as Ford's friend. Preston, well... his role will be elaborated more in upcoming parts. Really though Bill, you shouldn't take gold from strangers.
> 
> This particular fic is also dedicated to my friend Josh, who like me, is a huge Tolkien fan. Thanks for sticking by me, buddy :)

The front page of the _Gravity Falls_ _Gossiper_ floated in the late spring air, stolen far from it's reader. It drifted high and away from outstretched fingertips who attempted to snatch it for themselves. It's headlines warned of missing hikers, conspiracies, and other frivolities. It came to a stop against Bill's leg, wrapped around it like a cuff. He did not notice, his eye focused elsewhere. 

The spider web gleamed in the morning sun, the strands of it's perfect shape vanishing in the light. It was tucked in the front corner of Fearamid Fortunes & Macabre Sundries' entry alcove, missing it's creator. Bill watched the web, running his tongue over the firm flesh of his cantaloupe slice, and then took a bite. He chewed as he watched, searching for the signs of the spider who had to be nearby. He took another, smaller bite and let his head rest against the yellow bricks of his store. 

Memories, like the spring breeze, drifted through his mind. 

 _"You're_ _a spider, Bill."_  

 _Bill looked at the social worker behind the large, beat up desk. The man was potato shaped, sitting in his chair with his shoulders slumped, and a frown embedded_ _i_ _n his face._ _He wore a white shirt, and a tired tie. He had many social workers in his short life. This one was new._ _The tarnished name plate slapped on a piece of oak read 'T. L. Smith'. Bill studied it for a moment, kicking his s_ _hort_ _legs. They did not touch the floor. "Whatdya'mean, Mr. Smith?"_  

 _"How old are you?"_  

 _"Twelve!" Bill's eye left Mr. Smith in favor of roaming over the ceiling,_ _trailing over every bump and water stain dotting the yellowing tiles._  

 _"That's what I mean. You're twelve, and you've had how many foster homes now?"_  

 _"I dunno." Bill shrugged his shoulders. The words came easy. Lies always came easy._ _He_ _knew_ exactly _how many homes he had been in. It was never his choice to leave. The reasons were lies too, carefully worried to spare him any personal pain. 'Bill is too spirited for this house'. 'Bill has too much energy, we can't keep him entertained long enough'._ _'Bill isn't the right fit for our children'._ _'Bill is a troubled child'._ _'Our children are convinced Bill is some kind of monster'._ _'Bill set the curtains on fire when he sneezed'._  

 _"Fifteen, Bill. Fifteen different homes since you were an infant. Do you know why that is?"_  

 _"_ _..._ _You're telling me I'm a spider, so that has to be it." Bill chewed on his bottom lip, his eye firmly planted on one corner of the room. "No one likes spiders."_  

 _"Correct." Mr. Smith let out a long, dead sigh. "You would do better in homes if you were less like..._ you _, Bill. You lure people in, and then you destroy them. I have never seen a child brought back as many times as you, and frankly—we're running out of places to send you. You're not a stupid child_ _. This behavior has to stop._ _D_ _o you like coming back here? Don't you want a home to go to?"_  

 _Bill's jaw_ _clenched tight, causing the muscle in his neck to twitch._ _He pressed his lips together, trying to will away the tremble in the bottom one._  

 _"You need to be less.... you. You need to be a better little boy. You're going to be thirteen soon, and teenagers have a higher rate of failure in the foster care system. Do you really want to be another statistic? ...Bill. Bill!"_  

"Bill!"  

Bill's eye flew open. He blinked, and took in the sight of his own weirdly painted yellow bricks surrounding him. This was Gravity Falls, not a social services office in the middle of nowhere. He was a man, not a boy. He ran a hand down his face, as if trying to pull the memory from his mind completely. More importantly, people liked him here. Most importantly, so did the man in front of him. "Christ, Fordsy- you surprised me." He pushed off the corner he was leaning against, and frowned. His cantaloupe slice was on the ground. He bent down and picked it up along with the newspaper around his leg, sighing at the dirt and several ants clinging to the sticky surface of his cantaloupe. There was no saving it. "Ah, would you look at that? I ruined breakfast." He reached into his shop to throw away the ruined fruit and the newspaper in a wastebasket by the door.  

"I'm sorry." Stanford bit his lip. "You were off in a daze, I wanted to make sure you were okay." 

"You have way too much sympathy for the devil, Sixer." Bill's wide, toothy grin failed to reach his eyes. "But I'm fine. ...I appreciate your concern, though. It's kinda nice to have some one thinking about me other than Stanley." His eye roamed over Stanford, noting the hiking boots, heavy duty denim, and knapsack he had with him. "Going camping so soon after coming back to town? I know Stanley's a handful in all, but I roomed with the guy for awhile and he's not _that_ bad _._ " 

"No no. Today's my first day of getting specimens to study! I wanted to have something for my old dorm mate to see when he comes by to drop off some of my things from college later." He beamed and Bill's grin turned into an actual smile.  

"Well then." Bill folded his arms across his chest, and smirked. "You want a good luck kiss?"  

"H-huh?" Stanford's six fingered fists clenched around the straps of his knapsack. Blush crept up his face and he straightened up his shoulders. "Well... yeah, o-of course. Do I uh, do... do I come to you or...?" 

Bill stepped down from the alcove, reaching out to take the canvas straps of Stanford's knapsack into his long fingers. He tugged, and Stanford stumbled forward. Warm lips pressed against his forehead. They lingered long on his skin, heat spreading down from the kiss to his face, and down to meet the blush cheeks. Bill pulled away. "That'll be one cup of coffee." 

Stanford's dark eyes were wide. He adjusted his glasses, and swallowed thickly. "I... _what_?" 

"Didn't you take any economics classes at that fancy college of yours? There's no such thing as a free lunch. Or in your case, a free kiss. Oh! You still owe me a cup of coffee from insulting me last week. You're up to two dates, pal. I'm a busy guy, you should book your dates before I'm all out of time." Bill leaned against his building, looking down at his nails.  

"Oh, right. The dates. I'm... I'm not used to people actually wanting to go on those with me." His cheeks were still pink, and he busied himself by staring at the galaxy pattern on Bill's dress shoes. "How about... how about next week Friday night when I come back again with more of my things? This weekend's already booked for me with my friend coming in." 

"I see how it is, make me wait. Well. I think you _may_ be worth it. Keep surprising me, Stanford Pines." He looked up from his nails to smirk at him. "Now go on. Happy hunting. And good luck!" 

"I swear I am. Worth it, I mean. See you later!" Stanford's smile split his face. He nodded and waved, heading off down the ruined sidewalk for the forest line. 

"Heh. Crazy kid." He leaned back further, looking up to the spider's web. There was a fly in the strands, struggling and twitching it's wings. The spider was on the fly in a matter of mere seconds. It was dead not long after that, wrapped in silk for later. Bill pressed his lips together, making a thin line. He pushed off the building and went inside, slamming the door behind him.  

- 

Stanley had two cups of coffee in cardboard take out container. The coffee was not particularly good, it was usually burned by now at Greasy's. It was not as warm as he wanted it to be either, the weak trails of steam barely curling out of the plastic lid's opening. Still, it was tradition. Every day since they opened up shop, one of them brought coffee over some time before noon. 

He was nearly to Bill's shop when the door slammed open. Bill leapt from the opening, brandishing a broom. In a heavy handed downward swipe, he knocked down the spider's web. He beat the web down into the ruined sidewalk several times, grinding the bristles into it until he seemed satisfied. His hand shook as he pushed his curly hair back behind his ear. Bill stood up slowly, fluffed the collar of his suit with one hand, while resting the broom in his other hand against the wall. He stared at Stanley for a good moment before finally speaking. "I am not a spider, Stanley." 

Stanley let out a long, tired sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Good morning, Stanley. You're looking well today. Why thank you, Bill. That's kind of you to say. Are you excited about the coffee today, Bill? Why yes, Stanley- I am! Thank you for bringing it over. You're the best friend I've ever had, and the whole town loves you!" 

"Alright, alright. I'm sorry for the intense greeting." Bill waved his hand. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and then let his arm fall to his side. "Hi Stanley. I really need that coffee, in case it wasn't abundantly clear to you a moment ago."  

"Yeah, I figured." He handed Bill one of the cups. "What's eating you anyway?" He took the other cup for himself. "It's not every day I see you violently evicting a long term tennant."  

"He owed too much back rent." Bill's words were mumbled, as his mouth was blocked by the lid. He peeled it off the cup, flipping it up and down in his mouth. His eye was glazed over, and not on the warm coffee in his hand.  

Stanley followed his gaze to across the street. The buildings were abandoned, same as they were yesterday. "You uh, you wanna talk about somethin'? You're not your usual self, and this whole partial duck impersonation with the coffee lid isn't doing it for me." 

Bill removed the coffee lid from his mouth, snapping it back on his coffee. "Nah. Just past shit." 

"Read you loud and clear, buddy." Stanley took a sip out of his cup, his face scrunching up at the taste. He looked over to Bill again. He was standing with his shoulders hanging as he toyed with cup. He never took a sip, letting his fingers scrape along the words. Most of his face was covered by the mass of curly hair hanging down to the side. "Bill-" 

"I'm really glad you're my friend." His words were sharp, cutting the air and leaving it hang. They came quickly, almost in a clump. Stanley's mouth hung open. "Thank you. You've stuck with me the longest. I don't know what I'd do without your friendship. However, I also really _like_ your brother. Do you... do you mind that? I won't act on it, if you're weirded out about it. I can’t lose your friendship, it means too much to me." 

"...Does this relate back to the whole spider thing?" 

The lid popped off Bill's cup again. It landed on the ground on it's side, rolling away from them. His thumbs were perched over the lid, unmoving. The frown was set hard in Bill's expression. 

"Right. Look, I know you're 'weird', but I am one-hundred percent certain you won't hurt Ford. You and him might be a good thing. I mean, I am a little worried as you're uh, ' _advanced'_ in regards to social situations. You may wind up metaphorically eating Sixer alive. However, that also might help him as he never bothers to experience things with anyone—at least when I knew him best, he didn't. I feel like this could be a rare win-win, or win-minor loss situation here. Which really isn't so bad, when you think about it." He reached over and lightly punched Bill in the arm. "What I'm trying to say is, I don't mind. I think you both could use it. You'd make one hell of an interesting couple- and uh, who knows? You could wind up my brother-in-law some day. Though I er... I appreciate you asking me." 

"Don't mention it." Bill waved his hand. He sat down on the ledge in front of his shop's window, his long legs stretched out over the cracked pavement. He toed a crack, idly flicking a stone. It skipped over the ground, landing in the street. 

Stanley joined him, letting the mid morning sun warm him. Neither man spoke, the pleasant wind of late spring washing over them. Stanley's eyes went down to the rough sidewalk, noting Bill's lack of shadow once more. He chewed his lip, looking away. _It's just the sun, a trick. Bill's fine. ...Even if he doesn't have a shadow, it doesn't matter. He's Bill, he's weird. It's totally_ _and completely_ _fine._ _He's saved my ass so many times by being weird. It doesn't make him bad. Hell, Stanford loves weird. Of course he'd like Bill. Just gotta make sure Ford doesn't try to sell Bill out as some sorta research subject_ _._  

"Guys! Guys!!" Stanford's voice carried over the empty streets, followed by the sound of rapid footfalls over old concrete. Stanley leaned forward, watching as his brother came in to view. He wore dirt like it was clothing, twigs and leaves stuck in his brown hair. His glasses were nearly off his face, hanging off of the top part of his ear. Scrapes covered his arms, down to his skinned knuckles. He clutched at the wooden handle of his net, which was occupied by a large eye bat. "I... I found it! I found... I found what ever this is!" He clutched at the fiber part of the net to prevent the creature from flying away, and to show them. "It put up a real fight, but I managed to wrangle it in. I don't know if anyone ever wrote about this species, I could... I could have discovered something entirely new!"  

Stanley groaned and Stanford's face fell. "Ugh, one of _those_." 

Stanford looked to the flapping eye bat, frowning at it and then at Stanley. "Wh-what? What do you mean 'one of those'? It's an eye with bat wings, how could you possibly even begin to not be impressed here-" 

"When we first got here, we hid in the forest. A bunch of them came out of a cave straight out of Satan's asshole. Bill caught a bunch of im', and ate them. I couldn't bring myself to do it though. Too gross." Stanley rolled his shoulders in disgust. "They made intense squishing sounds when he was chewing on the eye part. I'm never going to get that sound out of my head. ...Ugh, there it is again." He rubbed at his temples, looking anywhere but the flapping bat in the net. 

"Are you going to eat that, IQ?" Bill asked as he looked at the eye bat. His eye was focused, watching the wings, and following each movement the beast made. He slowly pushed off the ledge, his shoulders pinned up high, his posture hunched as if he was ready to strike. His expression was blank, unflinching, and his fingers seemed longer than they did moments ago. They were nearly claws, pointed and sharp. Stanley pulled Bill back, feeling the hard shudder of broken focus go through him. Bill shook his head a strong few times, and cleared his throat. "Sorry, haven't eaten yet." He glanced to Stanley, pursing his lips and gave him a meaningful look.  

"Don't mention it." Stanley kept a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.   

Stanford barked out a nervous laugh. "O-oh. No problem. I figured you might be joking, but I couldn't tell. You have a pretty funny sense of humor, Bill!" 

"Oh ho, thank you. But I wasn't joking. I want to eat that eye bat you've got there." A long, black and thin tongue slithered out between his plump lips, licking at them. "They're _delicious_." 

Stanford's eyes widened. He was staring at Bill's mouth, bringing the net closer to his body. The color was gone from his face, as he took a step back. "Y-y-your tongue. Your tongue—it _changed_ \- it was like a snake's- how did you-" 

Stanley opened his mouth to speak, stopping when words flowed easily from Bill. "What are you going on about, Fordsy? My tongue's fine." He grinned as he watched Stanford's eyes flit nervously to the trapped eye bat. "See?" He leaned over and licked the side of Stanford's face with a perfectly normal, human tongue. When he pulled away, the color was back and powerful across Stanford's face. "Besides, you got more to worry about than what my tongue looks like... unless those dates go really well. Huh. Anyhoo, I'm not the weird prize you're looking for here. Oh no. Old stage magicians like me can play some pretty great tricks, but they're nothing like what you'll come across if you dig deep enough. You got way bigger and better fishes to catch in that forest worthy of whatever the heck you're up to." 

"That was... a normal tongue." Stanford ran a hand through his hair. He gave Bill a long, hard look. "I'm not giving you this eye bat. I'll uh, I'll buy you lunch. ...So I guess I owe you three dates, heh. An-and maybe yeah, they'll go that well. ...Maybe." He fixed his glasses back over his nose. "I am a little sad both of you know what this creature is. I thought I'd surprise or even impress you. Though, since you've both been here longer than I am, I guess nothing in that forest will surprise you now." 

"Well hey, not necessarily." Stanley frowned at him. "Weird stuff goes on in that forest every day. You haven't even scratched the surface. But don't ever worry about impressing us. That's not the point. It's your research that's important." 

"Your brother's right. Though... _you_ were in the forest. And _you_ impressed me. You caught an eye bat. A _big_ one at that. It's only what, your third day here after your first visit a whole week ago? That's pretty great, Fordsy. Even if you won't let me eat it. I will take you up on that food offer though, so you'd best not try to run out on me. I take food very seriously." He clapped Stanford on the back, and immediately frowned. "What..." He slowly pulled his hand away, taking the thick strands of a web with him. "This web-" Stanley watched Bill's expression drop to a far too serious one. His long, graceful fingers pulled apart the sticky silk, before balling up his hand into a fist. 

Stanford blinked, looking over his shoulder. "Oh yeah, there were tons of them all over the part of the forest I was in. I brushed against it and-"  

"Don't go back to that part of the forest." Bill's voice was low and sharp. "The wood spiders are in season. They live in the eastern part of the forest, as that's best suited for them. They'll easily take down a person, especially at this time of year. You are not forest savvy enough to go in and take down a full grown, man eating, hungry spider. Go explore any other part of it, but don't you dare go back where you were." 

"I-" Stanford's voice broke up. "But I-" 

" _Promise_ me you won't." Bill stuck out his hand to Stanford.  

Stanford looked to Stanley, who gestured to Bill. "I listen to Bill about this stuff. He goes to the woods all of the time. If he says that there's something bad out there? There's something bad out there. He knows what's up." 

"Alright, I... I promise I won't go back to the eastern part." Stanford shook Bill's hand. Warmth spread through him at the touch. After he released Bill's hand, the warmth remained. He lowered his net. "Thank you for caring about my well being. Aside from Stanley, few people have ever really... well... you know." He gave him a small smile. "Alright, I need a shower before Fiddleford gets here- and I have to put this guy away." 

"I'll come with ya. I locked up the shack, you wouldn't be able to get in." Stanley tossed Bill his empty cup. "See ya around closing time, Bill. And for Pete's sake, eat somethin' would ya?"  

"I've got something on the stove, don't worry about it. Bye boys! Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" He wiggled his fingers at them, leaving the front of his shop with empty cups in tow.  

- 

The door to the Mystery Shack closed behind them. Stanford's eyes were firmly set on Stanley's broad back as he watched him hang up his question mark tie on a hook behind the counter. "What is up with Bill?" He asked and set his net down on the counter's surface. "You had to see that tongue change. You were right next to him! And the way he was looking at my specimen! Last week in the shop I _know_ that was real magic, regardless of what he said about smoke and mirrors. He's not a human, he can't be-"  

"I'm going to stop you right there." Stanley slammed his fist on the counter. "So _what_ if he's not, Stanford? What are you going to do, catch him in your net and study him? Or better yet, what if you _do_ get proof that he's not a human? What are you going to do with it, huh? Go to the government and let them come here in their big black vehicles and take him away? What do you think _they'll_ do to him anyway?! Because you're out of your damn mind if you think they'll just want to 'ask him a few questions. They'll probably splay him open on some table and dissect him like a science experiment. Do you want that to happen to the one guy who is generally interested in you?" 

"I-" 

"Do you?" 

 "No." Stanford's arms fell. "No, I don't. I don't want him to get hurt. B-but aren't you curious? Don't you want to know what he is?" 

"I _already_ know what Bill is. He's my _friend_ , and was when I didn't have _anyone_. So... drop it. Just let Bill be Bill. Or better yet, if you're that curious, get to know Bill and maybe he'll tell you himself. Let him get to know you enough before you pounce on him with questions." Stanley pulled open the top two buttons on his shirt. He frowned hard at him. "You're too curious, Ford. Bill's a good guy. And he... really likes you." 

Stanford shoved the one hand not holding down the net into his pocket. "I... I like him too, Stanley. And it's not what you think. I don't want to study Bill, I most certainly don't want him to be taken away by the government. Though, I doubt they would dissect him, I would think they'd turn him into a weapon. It's more about something else." He shuffled in his spot, looking anywhere but Stanley. "...I never met anyone else who wasn't 'normal'. He may not have extra fingers, but he's got something different about him. I want to know what it is, because it'd be nice not to be so alone. He's got to feel pretty alone about it too. We don't have to be alone if we're together. I... I guess I went about doing that the wrong way." He knew his cheeks were red again. He rubbed at one of them, as if trying to will it away. "I should probably go tell him all of this-"  

"Whoa whoa whoa." Stanley reached out to grab Stanford by the shoulder. "Look, I'm sorry I went off on you like that. Lots of people have asked some rough questions about Bill, and we've had to lie and twist things to keep people off his tail. I'm sorry he had to do that to you, but rest assured it's nothing personal. ...I know you're lonely, Sixer. And I know Bill would appreciate you saying that to im', but this is one of those 'well placed' moments. There's a time and a place for it. You should save it. Tell him on one of your dates you got coming up."  

"Well, I can tell him right now-" Stanford looked toward the door. "It'll make it better, won't it-" He turned to face him again, blinking at his expression. Stanley was smirking at him, one thick eyebrow raised. "Is this one of those 'smooth with others' things? ...I'm not smooth, Stanley. You know that. I have tried your 'tips' before, and I wound up with punch thrown in my face, slapped, and left out in the cold. I think I'm going to try things my way, but I'll keep your idea in the back of my mind. ...Though, I suppose you're right. I don't necessarily have the time to go back over to Bill. I'm going to take a shower and take care of my specimen. Fiddleford will be over soon." He slid the net off the counter, grasping the fibers in his hand to keep the bat from flying. 

"Yeah, alright Geeky Casanova. Do it your way. I'll let you know when your other nerd friend gets here. The Shack opens back up in about a half hour, so try not to disrupt any of the tourists when you two leave here."  

"Thank you." Stanford smiled and waved to Stanley over his shoulder. The Mystery Shack was a decently sized building which Stanley devoted the whole first floor to tourist trap attractions. With it's creaking wooden floors, peeling Victorian wallpaper, and tin ceilings it was a perfect location for his brother's scheme. The taxidermy attractions were simple, but judging by the tourists that were often here, Stanley knew what he was doing. He opened the last door at the end of the 'off limits' hallway, which hid the staircase to the upstairs. The second floor was all living space, divided up into three bedrooms, a bathroom, and a decent sized living room. The windows were large and full of leaded block glass, which distorted the views Stanford tried to appreciate. His new room was of a good size, one that was going to fit his desk from college and bookshelf nicely. The wood creaked as loudly as it did downstairs with every step he took. The bat in the net struggled around at the noise. "Alright, alright. I've got you." He released the eye bat into the confines of his room, observing it's flight pattern. 

Stanford closed the door gently, pulling out his journal to start a new page on his new roommate. Once he was done writing about and sketching the creature, he flipped to the first page.  

 _Bill Cipher_  

 _Resident fortune teller, close to my brother. While being very mysterious, he is also quite_ _attractive_ _._ _He is pleasing to look at._ _I never thought I might be attracted to men, but I have struck out with wo_ _Bill is a tall, thin, brown skinned man with a large amount of thick, curly hair. It's black, save for one streak of_ _blond_ _in the front. That too is curly, and always seems to hang in the same spot_ _. He may only have one eye. It happens to be almond_ _shaped._  

He sighed at the notes he began to take on his first weekend here. He also included a sketch of Bill. These were his field notes, but Bill was not a subject to be studied. 

 _I like Bill. He's funny, gregarious, and just a shade ridiculous. I also know he's hiding things from me. As confirmed with Stanley, it's not out of maliciousness, rather instead for self preservation. I think Bill may be a kindred spirit in terms of weirdness, and I would like to express this to him. However, I am not certain how. He does not trust me, which makes sense. I have known him for a grand total of less than a day. I still want to express to him that he is not alone in being strange. I am not certain on how to do this either._  

Stanford's pen tapped against the page, getting small blobs of ink on the page. He chewed on his lip, toying with the ink blobs for a moment before continuing.  

 _Sometimes when he smiles, it does not reach his eye. This for whatever reason, is starting to upset me._ _I have also_ _apparently_ _racked up a debt of three dates now with Bill. I have only been on one, and that was_ _back in high school. It was_ _a prank designed to upset and_ _ostracize_ _me. It worked. I do not think Bill's dates are a prank._ _He_ _may actually want to know me, and made some sort of remark toward French kissing if they go well. I am going to tentatively schedule these dates for next weekend, and I hope they do go well. Bill is the only person I have ever met who has reacted well to my Star Wars joke, kissed me, and licked me to prove that his tongue is normal._  

  _I_ _really_ _like_ _Bill._  

Stanford sat his journal down, resting his head against the wall. He brought the hand he shook Bill's with up to his face, looking at it. The warmth from earlier lingered longer than anything he had ever felt before.  

The soft, squishing sounds of the eye bat hitting his bedroom window caught his attention. "Ah... you want to go. Alright, I suppose I should lest I be a bad host." He went over to the window and opened it. "Now, don't go flying over by Bill's, you'll wind up as dinner."  

The eye bat flew out, fluttering into the air over the empty buildings on Main Street. Stanford watched it go until the bat was gone completely from view. 

- 

Bill stood outside of his shop, enjoying the sun on his brown skin. He sucked in a deep breath, letting it out as he shut his eye. Today was decent for customers. In and out, all buying. He sent them Stanley's way when he was done. He chewed on the last slice of his cantaloupe slice, smirking when the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps filled the air. The heavy thud of leather against concrete was becoming more recognizable the more he heard it. It was accompanied by the clattering of metal against metal, and quick, excited chatter. He glanced over to see Stanford and a skinny man with a heady full of fluffy hair coming toward him. Both of them had canvas backpacks strapped to them. 

"Bill! I was hoping you wouldn't be busy. This is a friend of mine, Fiddleford McGucket. We graduated from Backupsmore together." Stanford placed a hand on Fiddleford's shoulder, guiding him toward Bill. "He brought me some of my things from our dorm room."  

"Pleased to meet ya, Fiddlesticks!" Bill pushed himself off from his leaning position. "I'd shake your hand, but I'm a little sticky." He wagged the fingers on his free hand, the juice gleaming on his skin. Overhead, Bill's shop sign hitched up and rattled in the wind. The sound made Fiddleford jump. "Easy there, pal. It's just my sign."  

"Er, it's Fiddleford... And that's alright, I don't want to get sticky. Stanford says you're a unique fella. It's uh, nice to meet you." He shifted on his feet, looking to Bill briefly before looking away. "H-he also said you mentioned something about spiders? We're going on a hike, and I don't want to be under prepared to be attacked by something unpleasant. ...You're not funning us are ya? No offense or anything, but you sure do look like you're the type to pull the wool over on a couple a guys."  

Bill looked down at Fiddleford, an easy smirk spreading across his face. "Why, aren't you smarter than literally everyone in this town? I do like to joke, Fiddle-dee-dee. But I'm not funning anyone over the existence of wood spiders. They'll turn a man's insides to goo in a flash, and now's the time when they're the most active. Thankfully, they only live on the east side of the forest. As long as you're not heading over that way, you'll be fine. If by chance, you are unlucky enough to run across one, they don't like fire. ...I mean, that's a fairly obvious weakness as most things don't tend to like fire. So I suppose giant novelty newspapers might be their true, actual weakness. All kidding aside, you'll know you're in trouble when you start seeing huge webs. Do you have any weapons on you?" 

"I have some flares." Stanford glanced over his shoulder at his backpack. "And a pick axe. I don't have anything else. We're not planning on going to the east side, we're heading up north, not too far in. We're losing daylight. It's going to be a brief hike." 

"Alright, alright. But remember, Stanford Pines. You promised me." Bill held up his sticky hand. "No looking for spiders."  

"Y-yeah, I remember. We won't. We'll see you in a little while! I'll try to bring you back something you've never seen before. Come on, Fiddleford- let's get going."  

Bill leaned back against his shop. "Good luck, boys! Don't do anything I wouldn't do. ...Or would do for that matter. Best yet, don't think of me at all when you're doing anything, just to play it safe." He waved to them, sinking against the bricks. Stanford waved back and beamed, while Fiddleford raised his hand up briefly and turned away. Both of them started down the sidewalk, the afternoon sun on their backs.  

"Bill's a little strange, Ford." Fiddleford said once they were out of earshot. He shifted the straps of his backpack, frowning at his feet. "I mean, he seems nice. There's just... something off. Not necessarily in the good way, either." He let the words hang in the air. He was a few steps behind Stanford, watching him carefully. Stanford never had luck with any of the women he saw him interested in during college. There was one girl who participated in their Dungeons, Dungeons and more Dungeons group during their first year at Backupsmore. She wore geeky tee shirts, jeans, and a wide smile. Becky had no problem flirting with Stanford either. Despite Fiddleford's prodding, Stanford never asked her out. She wound up dating someone else, and left the group. 

He gripped his backpack straps. Stanford mentioned girls now and then. There were some in the doctoral program he was in. Fiddleford attempted again to help him, but no dates came. Bill however, he had no issues talking to. He seemed relaxed, like the dialogue came as naturally as it should with anyone else. Time ticked by as they walked, silence surrounding them like the words he spoke earlier. Fiddleford's upper lip twitched, and he frowned deeper. The quiet continued until their feet were slapping against grass instead of the sidewalk. "Ford-"  

"He's fine, Fiddleford. Yeah, I know he's weird. That's... that's why I like him so much. He likes me and it's not a prank. I know you have my well being in mind, but you have to trust me on this one. I didn't even know I could be attracted to another man, though... it might not even be that. He's different, interesting, full of mystery. I suppose if I met anyone who happened to be so unique, I would like them- regardless of anything they happened to be. ...Are we done on the subject? In other words, can we _not_ talk about this?" 

Fiddleford winced at the edge in Stanford's voice. "Right, sorry. I'm just concerned about ya, that's all."  

"I... I know, I'm sorry. It's a difficult subject for me." Stanford turned around, and gave him a small, sad smile. "I trust my gut instinct though, and I really do appreciate that you care about me to try and warn me. You're a good friend, Fiddleford." He reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. "Let's go explore these woods, eh? We're going to have a great hike." 

"Agreed!" Fiddleford brightened. "Is there anything we're looking for in particular?" As they walked, he spotted an abandoned water bottle, and what looked like a broken compass. He raised an eyebrow at it, and brushed it off. 

"I wasn't in the forest long before I found an eye bat. I am assuming we'll find something odd relatively soon. I wanted to have some specimens for you when you got here, but I felt bad for the one I caught and let it go." Stanford started wading through the brush, twigs snapping, and leaves fluttering to the ground in his wake. Fiddleford followed him in, keeping his eyes toward the thick branches hanging over head. The light was becoming less the more they went in. Ford frowned and stopped in place. "This... isn't... right. There's no sounds. No birds, no insects, no noise at all." He took in a breath, thick air filling his chest. "Even the air doesn't seem right." 

"Did Bill give you his number?" Fiddleford slowly stepped out of the bushes and on to a patch of dirt. He looked forward and stopped moving. "It wouldn't be a bad idea to give him a call. Looks like there's a decent sized spider web ahead. Didn't he warn us about that? About the webs?" 

" _Fiddleford_ , don't move." Stanford's voice went low. " _And don't panic_."  

"Wh- _what kind of a thing is that to say to a guy_?" Fiddleford scowled and stood rigid. Motionless shadows nestled in the trees began to shift and move about. His eyes followed them, and he immediately clamped down on his bottom lip when the shadows revealed themselves. One long segmented leg after another, after one more, followed by five climbed about in the branches. Eight legs. Their hairy bodies were highlighted in the dim forest light. He swallowed thickly, feeling the lump slide down his throat, watching them intently. The bodies were easily the size of a small car. The branches above snapped at the weight and rapid movement, causing the leaves to flutter down in a fury. The rushing sound filled the heavy air, until it was quiet once more.  

No more legs, no more snapping twigs or falling leaves. 

Fiddleford slowly turned to look at Stanford, his eyes wide. Stanford reached down to his cell phone. He quickly typed out message, and slid it back into his pocket. "I.. I don't have Bill's number. I sent Stanley a message. C-Come on, let's get out of here before they come back."  

"Why do you think they were leaving so fast?!" Fiddleford followed Stanford back through the brush, careful to not make the same amount of noise as when they first came through.  

"They must have caught something in one of their webs. T-try not to think about it." He stumbled out of the brush, looking around at the clearing they came in to. Both men turned in a circle, looking up at the trees and all around. "Fiddleford, is this where we came from?" 

"I don't-" He turned around in a circle again, gripping the straps of his backpack. "I don't know, it all looks the same."  

Stanford raked a hand through his brown hair, forcing down several gulps of heavy air. He began to pace back and forth in the clearing, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. He paused to look at Fiddleford, opened his mouth to speak, but decided against it in favor of more pacing. "Okay... okay. I think we simply need to calm down. Those spiders were certainly huge, but they're not in the area. We need to go about this logically so we can get back to town. I have alerted Stanley, he now knows something is up. Most likely, he will go and get Bill. Everything is going to be fine. The worst thing we could do is head back into the forest. They may have more webs, or possibly spiders hiding in the darkness. Both of which are terrible things." 

"No argument there, Stanford. We disturbed a lot of the foliage going in, we should be able to find out where we came out of, I reckon." He shrugged a shoulder and started over to the rim of foliage, looking for broken branches. He heard Stanford's footsteps heading toward the perimeter on the far side of the clearing, and then the stumble. Fiddleford picked his head up to check on him, and immediately frowned. He was nowhere to be found. "Stanford? W- where did ya go?" 

A hand shot out of the bush. "I'm over here! I tripped on a root-" 

Fiddleford looked down at the ground, bending over to look at what Stanford caught his foot on. He brushed his fingertips over the surface. He jerked his hand back. The bulbous surface of a bone stuck out of the dirt. He dug his fingers into the shallow ground, digging up a finger bone and the rounded part of a skull. His breath hitched in his throat. The bones still had a bit of silk spider web clinging to the surface. "Y-yeah, a root. Are you okay? Can you get up?" 

"I think so." The bush rustled around. "I can't... There's something sticky-"  

Fiddleford's lips pressed shut. He slowly got up to his feet, and went over to the bushes. He pushed them aside to see Stanford struggling against the strands of a large web that went from the forest floor, and up the tree. "Stop struggling. I'm going to cut you loose. Your one arm is fully in a web."  

"What?!" Stanford tried to sit up, but was pulled back down- his glasses askew on his face. 

" _Stop struggling_. You're makin' it worse!" Fiddleford scowled at him, removing his pocket knife to saw away at the webbing. "It's fairly strong for what it is."  

"Fiddleford-"  

"Don't worry, I'll get you out-"  

" _Fiddleford!_ " 

"What?!" He looked to Stanford, watching the color drain from the other man's face. He lifted his trembling hand, pointing at something behind him. Fiddleford's jaw snapped shut, turning around slowly. One of the massive spiders from the trees loomed over them, it's many eyes focused only on them. Fiddleford clenched his fist tight around his pocket knife, shielding Stanford with his own body. "G-Get away!" He sliced at the spider, the blade catching one of it's eyes. It reared back and let out screech, clicking and snapping at Fiddleford. "Get back!" He sliced again and again, catching the exoskeleton with the blade. It leapt on him, pinning him down by the shoulders with it's long, hairy legs. Fiddleford kicked his legs up, connecting with the body in a satisfying crunch. He drew them to his chest again, using all of his force to drive his feet into the spider's body. Screeches and loud clicks filled the clearing, followed by crunching sounds from Fiddleford's frantic kicks. A piercing pain shot through his shoulder, but he did not stop. He kicked and thrashed with everything he had, ignoring his vision getting blurry around the edges. 

"Fiddleford!" 

His mouth moved, his throat vibrated as if he were speaking but he did not hear his own words. Stanford's voice grew less until there was nothing but noiseless black. 

- 

The door to Bill's shop swung open and banged against the wall. Stanley brandished his phone out in front of him. He was breathing hard, his hair mussed from running. Bill looked up from the round table he normally did fortunes on, setting the day's money back in cash box. The panicked look on his face  "What's the story, morning glory? Out for an afternoon run? How unlike you." 

"They're in trouble!" Stanley threw the phone at Bill, who snapped it easily out of the air.  

"Already? It's only been an hour." He shook his head and looked down at the message.  

 _S_ _t_ _a_ _n_ _l_ _e_ _y_ _,_ _w_ _e_ _w_ _e_ _n_ _t_ _t_ _o_ _t_ _h_ _e_ _n_ _o_ _r_ _t_ _h_ _e_ _r_ _n_ _s_ _e_ _c_ _t_ _i_ _o_ _n_ _o_ _f_ _t_ _h_ _e_ _w_ _o_ _o_ _d_ _s_ _,_ _b_ _u_ _t_ _t_ _h_ _e_ _r_ _e_ _a_ _r_ _e_ _G_ _I_ _G_ _A_ _N_ _T_ _I_ _C_ _s_ _p_ _i_ _d_ _e_ _rs_ _h_ _e_ _r_ _e_ _!_ _W_ _e_ _m_ _a_ _y_ _h_ _a_ _v_ _e_ _p_ _anicked and gotten turned around. Please get Bill. These things are fast. Regards, Ford._  

Bill tossed him the phone back. "The wood spiders have moved to the north. That's not normal for them, they never leave the east side of the forest. Get your car ready, I'm going to grab what we need." He got up from the table, heading toward the back of his shop. Much like the Mystery Shack, he lived on the second floor. He opened the only door in the hallway which concealed the steps to the next level and the basement. He ran up the stairs, turned the corner, and went in to his bedroom. Bill's room was large, made larger by the lack of items in it. He had small bed, covered by well made bed dressings with sharp creases at the sides. The only other item was a beat up military issued chest. He knelt down beside it, popping open the clasps. Inside, there was a faded military uniform, a framed photograph missing the glass, a shotgun, and gun case. He pulled out the shotgun and the case, leaving them on the ground while he threw on cargo pants and a tee shirt. 

He laced up boots, gathered up ammo, and looked down at the box. He sucked in a deep breath, kneeling down beside it. Two loud snaps echoed in his empty room. He pulled out the gun belt, and two customized revolvers. One of them was engraved with the words ' _T_ _o Bill, my good luck charm_ _—Rico'._ He stared at the guns, sighed, and shoved them into the gun belt.   

Bill grabbed the shotgun, throwing the shoulder bag full of ammunition roughly over himself as he flew down the stairs. He snagged a few bottles of water and tossed them in the bag as well, rushing out the door to meet Stanley in his dented up red Cadillac. He put the bag in the back seat, climbing into the front seat. "Let's go."  

"Don't need to tell me twice." Stanley cranked the wheel around, hit the gas, and they were off. "Where are-"  

"They were going north."  

"Okay." His fingers gripped the wheel. "I'm sorry, Bill."  

"Sorry? What for?" Bill looked to him with a furrowed brow. "This isn't your fault. Hell, it's not even their fault. It seems like the spiders migrated to a different part of the forest. No one could have accounted for that. It's not a big deal, I'll go in and get them, you drive the getaway car. Easy peasy." 

"Fine, Bill. ...I... I just—now you have to go and save them. My nerdy brother, and his equally nerdy friend who were probably doing something they shouldn't have been." He let out a loud sigh from his nose. "I love Stanford, but I haven't known him in years. I know more about you than I know about him at this point. I was seventeen when I was kicked out for wrecking that stupid machine. I feel bad about that, Ford not getting into the college he wanted- but like he was going to have a problem getting into any damn school-" He scowled and then sighed heavily again, his face softening. "You've stuck by me no matter what dumb thing I've done. You've saved my life so many times! I don't want to cause you trouble, I-"  

"You're not causing me any trouble." Bill's words were blunt. "You're my family, Stanley. I'd do _anything_ for you. _So_... how about some music? A little tune or two before the action might be just the thing." 

"Yeah, yeah. I agree." Stanley reached over, turning the power on. Static blared out from the worn speakers, until he turned it to a proper station. _Ring of Fire_ filled the car. "Appropriate, I suppose."  

Bill folded his hands behind his head, crossing one long leg over the other. "Johnny Cash is always appropriate, don't you think?" He grinned at him, bouncing in his seat when the car struck a pothole. The town grew less, and the forest became more. Soon enough, they were on the outskirts of the northern part of the forest. Stanley turned off the car, staring at the tree line several feet ahead. "I see the webs from here. They're all over the trees. How did they _not_ see-"  

"Sometimes you can't see the forest for the trees, Stanley." Bill grinned at him. 

"Ugh." He waved his hand at his comment. "Alright, what's the plan?" 

"Well... Like I said earlier. I'm going in. I'm going to rescue them, kill some spiders. Ya know, the good stuff. You drive the getaway car. And uh... you can take the shotgun, and you should have something else. Ya know, in case things get hairy." He looked down at his gun belt, grabbing up one of the revolvers without a second thought. "Take this. I'll trade you for the baseball bat in the trunk." 

"...What? What about you? You'll have one gun, and a baseball bat. If these spiders are that terrifying, how are you supposed to-" 

Bill held up a hand. "It's me, Stanley. You _know_ me. You and I both know what I can do in these types of situations. And we _both know_ that I can do this without a bunch of guns. I'd rather you have them."  

Stanley reached out and took the revolver. He looked down at it, frowning. "Bill-"  

"I gotta go. There's not much time. Pop the trunk." He hopped out of the car, and Stanley unrolled the driver's side window. 

"It's not fair that you have to do this. I should be going with you. It's my dumb brother." The hood popped up. Bill walked around to the trunk, rooting around through some of Stanley's display idea for the Mystery Shack until he pulled out the bat. He waved it in the rearview mirror to show him he found it. "It's his damn fault." 

Bill stuck his head in Stanley's window. "We'll make im' buy us dinner, and Stanford will owe me like a whole week of dates. It'll be fine. I left the ammo bag in the front seat. You should have more than enough for the shotgun. Just don't go nuts." He patted Stanley's cheek. "I won't be long."  

"Yeah yeah. Just... don't drag your feet in there."  

"Aww, you _love_ me." Bill winked at him. "I'll be back." He wiggled his fingers at him, turning around to make a run for the forest. He broke the tree line, taking a few steps into the forest. No sound greeted him, save for the swaying of something in the tree limbs above. He looked up, catching the sight of several human sized shapes wrapped up in silk high above the ground. Bill flew up into the air, coming face to face with all of them. Silence wrapped around him, much like the silk was wound around the bodies in the air. He slowly moved around the bodies, taking in how the silk clung to decayed skin and bones. Some of them were not as well covered. He furrowed his brow at the sight of their hiking boots, novelty tee shirts, and backpacks. "Dead... dead... oh. You." A wisp of blue flame appeared at the top of his finger tip. He flicked it at the silk strands holding a thickly wrapped victim, grabbing it before the body could hit any limbs.  

"You are one lucky nerd, you know. Not everyone can get up here to rescue you." He floated down to the ground, laying the body on the forest floor. He gripped the sticky silk in his hands, tearing at them until he was staring at a handsome, brown haired man. There was a designer label on his tracksuit, and an expensive gold watch on his wrist. "Ah. Not the nerd I am looking for." He reached down and smacked the man across the face. "Wakey wakey, pal! You're in a bad place to take a nap!" 

The man on the ground groaned, rubbing at his face. His eyes opened slowly, Bill's face coming into focus. "Ow- what in the name of money was that fo- O-oh. Oh, I was... there was a spider, a massive spider-" His words started to tumble out of his mouth. "Oh no, no. I'm not dead?" 

"Nope. One-hundred percent alive as it currently stands. Disappointed?"  

"No.. I... no." He raked a hand through his short brown hair. He sat up, looking to Bill with wide eyes. "You saved my life."  

"Yeah, probably." He shrugged a shoulder. "If you want to say thank you _properly_ , you can give me your watch. I have a thing for gold." 

The man howled out and shot a finger forward, all the color gone from his face. Bill jerked around, getting to his feet just in time to avoid the large spider charging out at him. He raised his bat up into the air, bringing it down with a sick crunch right on the spider's body. It screamed, and he swung again. A satisfying crunch filled the air, followed by another until there was nothing left to hit. The end of the bat was deep into the spider's remains, and Bill stood hunched over. He took in several deep breaths, letting his shoulders relax down to his sides. 

He turned around, grinning widely. "Boy, is that ever good for stress! I gotta do this more often. I've been working through some past trauma lately and who would have known that violently killing something would be so... freeing." He hoisted the bat over his shoulder. "So. About that watch." 

There was no hesitation in his movements as he peeled off the gold watch. "You... you're amazing. I'm Preston Northwest, I was on a morning jog, I didn't know about the spiders-"  

Bill took the offered watch, sliding it on to his own wrist. "Uh huh. Well, the more you know, right?" He watched as Preston got up on wobbling legs. "Look at you, moving around like a champ. You're going to want to head that a way. You'll see a disgruntled man in a red Cadillac with flavor. His name's Stanley. Tell him Bill sent you."  

"Y-you're not coming with me?"  

"Of course not. I have nerds to rescue." Bill made shooing motions with his hands. "Go on, pal. I'm burning daylight here."  

"Okay, sure but... I'm going to see you again. You're name's Bill. I'm going to find you." Preston pointed at him, and then pulled out his cell phone to take a picture of Bill.  

"Yeah, because that's not creepy one bit. Whatever you think, pal. You were almost eaten by a spider, and I like this watch so I'm going to let that slide. I'd get to Stanley sooner rather than later though, lest you wind up in the trees again." He gave him a half salute, and turned to jog off into the woods. "Weirdo." He said under his breath. 

It was not long before he came across another body hanging not far from the ground. Bill circled the trees it was suspended from, and then gave it a good, hard poke. The body gave a lurch forward. "Okay, okay. No worries, pal. I've got you." Blue flames wrapped around his fingers. He reached forward, letting the fire rush over the silk. Fiddleford fell to the ground, gasping and clutching at the ground. "Hey! There you are. Don't worry. You're safe. Your old buddy Bill's got you." He knelt down, looping an arm around his waist to help him stand up. 

"You s-saved me. ...You need to get Stanford! I tried to save him, but they got me." With Bill's help, Fiddleford was soon standing up against a tree.  

"You're a pretty brave guy." Bill said slowly. He kept his hands on Fiddleford's shoulders, as his legs wobbled and knocked together. "Do you know which way they went?" 

"N-no. I didn't... I didn't see them. Everything got black, and I don't remember anything." He put a hand on the back of his neck. "You gotta find him, don't waste time on me!" 

"Can you even walk?!" Bill pulled his hands back, watching as Fiddleford stumbled without the support. When he stood up on his own and gave him a thumbs up, a slow smile worked it's way over Bill's face. "Heh. I like you. Here." He pulled out the other revolver from his belt. "Take this. Just in case. Stanley's waiting for you. Just head straight, you'll see him."  

"What about you? How's a baseball bat going to-"  

"Go." Bill nudged him forward. "I _will_ save Stanford." Fiddleford took off on weak legs, and he watched until the sounds of his clumsy steps were no more. He rolled shoulders forward, shaking like a chill ran down his spine. Two additional pairs of arms sprouted from his sides. He stretched them out, closing all six of his fists. Blue flames licked up his forearms, casting blue light over the trees and foliage around him. The fire looped around his bat, licking at the wood but not burning it. After trekking through the forest awhile longer, the webs were getting more prevalent. There were the tell tale bundles stuck in the webbing of smaller animals, but nothing larger. Several feet ahead, dark shapes shifted among the trees. Bill paused, taking cover to watch. 

Spiders of all large sizes, yet none smaller than Stanley's car, marched on. They had wrapped prey with them which they dropped in front of the base of a small cave. Bill furrowed his brow, watching the cave. His three sets of hands grabbed the tree, digging all of his fingers into the bark as two long, hairy legs extended out of the cave. The legs were the same thickness as the birch trees scattered about the forest. The upper body of the spider came out of the cave, and dragged one of the offerings in with it. Bill's eye drifted over to the pile once the creature was back inside. Nothing there was the size of a human man.  

Sweat pooled up in his temples. "Damn, I hope I'm not too late." He glanced out at the area, watching spiders crawl in from nearly all directions. One not too far from him had a large sized bundle on it's back. Bill caught movement in the webbing, and went straight for the spider. He tackled it in it's side, flipping it over. One set of his hands stripped the victim from it's back, while another dug in to the exoskeleton. The last pair gripped the baseball bat, wailing down on the spider until all of it's legs stopped twitching. He looked down at what he had just killed, and placed a hand on his growling stomach. His black tongue slithered out between his lips, licking at them in contemplation. "No. No, there is no time for that. Dramatic rescue _before_ eating. Lesson number one in being a hero." His stomach growled in protest, but he chose to ignore it. Bill climbed over the spider's body, setting his six hands on the webbing. He ripped at it until Stanford's face and body came into view. He let out a sigh of relief, burning away the rest of the webs from his body. "Fordsy baby! I've been looking for you everywhere! No more hide and seek with spiders for awhile, okay?" He placed two hands on his face, patting his cheek. "Come _on_. Get up, I know you're in there!" Two more gripped his shoulders and shook him, while the last two fiddled with the bat nervously.  

Stanford groaned and moved his head to the side, pressing his cheek against Bill's palm. "Bill. What--" his eyes opened slowly, the lids heavy and unable to stay up for long unless he blinked repeatedly. He shut them for a minute, opening them up again to see Bill more in focus. Bill with his six arms. His hands were weak as he brought them up, resting them on the forearms of the set of arms coming out of the middle of Bill's torso. "Bill... Bill, what... How. How do you have-" 

"No time!" Bill stood up and took Stanford with him. He kept two sets of arms fully around him while twigs and small branches crunched under their feet. "Come on, Fordsy- you gotta step lively. I might have six arms, but they have eight legs. ...Plus I've already violently killed two of them. They'll be out for revenge soon enough. Don't worry though, that stuff they injected you with won't last long. I already rescued some obnoxious guy, and your friend. They got up and moved pretty quick once I freed them."  

"Fiddleford's alright?! He... he tried to save me." Stanford stumbled along at Bill's pace, managing to kick up his legs higher as they ran. 

"Yeah, he's dandy. I sent him off with my last revolver for protection." Bill picked up their pace when Stanford began to match his, the forest and all of it's trees became a large green blur. 

"Your last—but what about you?"  

"I have a baseball bat and six arms. I think I've got things covered here." Once they were out of the forest just past where he found Fiddleford, he came to a stop. "How are your legs? Think you can run to your brother's car?"  

"Well yes, I have feeling in them." Stanford stop to rub at his quads through the thick material. "Why? Aren't you coming with me?" 

Bill looked over his shoulder at the forest. He shrugged a shoulder. "Eh... I'm going to go back in there. Gotta preserve the natural order of things."  

"H-Huh? You can't be serious!" 

"Totally one hundred percent serious, as a matter of fact!" Bill turned back around and grinned at him. His stomach growled loudly. "Making all of these extra arms is cool in all, but... It burns a lot of energy, and I'm _really_ hungry. I'm gonna go back in, grab a snack or two. I'll be back in a while." 

"Wh-what? But-" Stanford looked to him with wide eyes. "I'll go with you!" 

"Nope! Off you go! Back to Stanley. You don't want to witness this, trust me." Bill gave him a push forward. "I'll see you in a little while."  

"Promise me." Stanford stuck his hand out. "Promise me like you made me promise you earlier."  

Bill snorted, a set of hands resting on his hips while another set twirled in the air frivolously. "Oh, like you _really_ kept that one, you were knee deep in what you promised not to get involved in."  

" _Bill_." Stanford stared at him, pressing his lips together. He looked down at his still outstretched hand, and then back at Bill. 

"...What, are you worried about me or something?" One of his hands rubbed his arm, and he looked anywhere but Stanford's face. "Aw come on, Stanford. Don't make me feel weird about going to eat spiders. I'm hungry, and there are too many of them! I'm the apex hunter in these parts, I have to thin the herd. You don't need to worry about me, your brother does that enough and—ugh. Okay. Fine. Just... stop looking at me like that." Bill reached out and shook Stanford's hand. "I _promise_ I will come back."  

"Alive and well?" 

"Alive and full."  

"Bill!"  

"Kidding, kidding. Alive and well. It's a deal, Sixer!" His expression suddenly fell. His brow furrowed, and he frowned in concentration. "That felt... oddly familiar. Well, whatever! Now go! Go on! The sooner you go, the sooner I eat, the quicker I return. Everyone wins! Your brother's at the start of the forest, waiting for you." 

"Okay, okay. Um. I hope they taste good? See you later." He backed off, waving Bill as he waved back at him. Once Bill turned his back to him, Stanford ran. He ran until he saw the red Cadillac up ahead, and Stanley waving to him. 

- 

"If you wear a trench in my floor, you're redoing it." Stanley grumbled and watched Stanford as he paced back and forth in front of the Mystery Shack's window. "Look, Bill knows what he's doing. I know it's weird, but he will be back." 

"It's nearly midnight! And don't tell me you're not worried. You clicked all the lead out of your mechanical pencil and have been clicking the empty one for the past hour and a half." Stanford did not bother to stop pacing. "You haven't even noticed!" 

Stanley looked down at all the pencil lead on the counter. "Ugh." He scooped up the lead, pouring it back in. "Fine, fine. We're all a little on edge. Cept for Fiddlesticks-"  

"Fiddleford." He frowned at Stanley from his perch on the barstool. "That's funny... Bill called me the same thing." 

"Can we stop talking about Bill?" Stanley scowled. "It's not helping. He'll be back when he wants to be, and not a minute later. No matter how much we may not like it, that's how he operates. It's how he's always been. Being constantly reminded that he isn't here is not helping, just a friendly FYI." 

"I have a question." Fiddleford raised his hand. "Who in the devil was that rich fella we had to take back?" 

"Oh- that's one of the Northwests. They're not the most pleasant people in town. No exaggerations there." Stanley shrugged his shoulder. 

"He wouldn't shut up about Bill." Stanford said as he paced. He unfolded his hands from behind his back to rake through his brown hair. He gripped the ends briefly.  "I wanted to... n-nevermind." 

"Eh, I wouldn't worry about _Preston Northwest_. He's nothing but a lot of hot air. He may like Bill, but so do a lot of people. His pretty face got us free eats when we were homeless. Bill's interested in you, Ford. Trust me on this one." 

Stanford paused in his pacing. He fiddled with his fingers for a moment as his face turned pink. "I... okay. I trust you, Stanley." He let out a small sigh. The bell over the door rang, and Bill stepped in. He leaned against the wooden door, hands on the rounded lump in his stomach. He was back to two arms, and they were dotted with puncture wounds. His pants were ripped up the legs, with scrape and puncture marks littering his skin. His eyelid was low, his smile was tired. "Ahhh." He patted the lump. "I ate the head spider. I don't think they'll come back to that particular part of the forest with no leader. Hopefully they'll go back to the eastern part where they belong. There's too many people that visit the northern part of the forest." 

"Took ya long enough, Bill. Stanford was wearing a trench in my floor and I uh, missed you too." Stanley linked his fingers together, shaking his head at Bill's big smile. 

" _Bill_!" Stanford ran over to him, making a motion to grab on to him only to pause and put his hands behind his back. He cleared his throat and looked down at the floor between them. "I'm... I'm glad to see you're alright and also full. Are you hurt?"  

"Nah. I'm fine. I probably over ate, that was a big spider. But I had a point to prove. I'm not a spider. I'm _above_ a spider. I showed ole T.L. Smith, alright. I have people who care about me, and I'm not chewing up and spitting them out, so you can go to hell!" He shook his fist at the ceiling, catching Stanley's perplexed face. Bill cleared his throat and slowly lowered his arms. "...I might also have a bit of indigestion. Makes a guy a little delusional." He pounded his fist on his chest . "But hey! I have a new watch, no one we know died during this whole creepy crawly affair. I call this a pretty successful day. C'mere Fordsy, I know you want a hug. I can use one after all that." He opened his arms to Stanford, who quickly accepted. "So, OtherFord, how do you like Gravity Falls?" 

Fiddleford blinked and pointed to himself. When Bill nodded, he sighed. "Well... it's not boring. And ah... I won't say anything about... about any of this. Or that you apparently ate a large spider. That seems to be 'no one needs to know' information." 

"I like this guy. He's damn smart." Stanley gestured to Fiddleford. "Hey uh, Bill. I got your weaponsin the back. Let me help you get them."  

"Oh, yeah. _Th_ _ose_. I also owe you a new baseball bat, by the way. ...Fordsy? Mind letting me go?"  

Stanford slowly unwound his arms from Bill. "I'm-I'm... really glad you're alright. There's so many things that I want to talk to you about, but I... I guess they can wait. You're... _incredible_. Thank you for everything you did for us."  

"Hey, right back at you. And you're welcome. ...I'm sorry that all of that happened, they really weren't supposed to be in that part of the woods. No idea why they were, either. That's a big fear for some people- being eaten alive by spiders. I mean, have fun trying to sleep tonight. That's some serious nightmare fuel. But I do have tea back at my place that you can have should you find yourself sleepless due to spiders." He patted Stanford's shoulders, walking over to Stanley. "Same goes for you, Fiddles. Come see me if you can't sleep. Dreams are kinda my thing." 

"Er... right." Fiddleford gave him an uneasy smile. 

Stanley threw an arm around Bill's shoulders, walking with him to the off limits hallway to the back of the Mystery Shack. Stanley's movements became more desperate with each passing moment. 

"Whoa now, Stanley! Easy, pal! I'm exhausted from all of that, I don't have it in me to step lively." He pulled away from him, adjusting his ruined clothes. "What's the big deal anyway?" 

Stanley held out the revolver Bill gave him earlier. In the dim light of the hallway, the words _'_ _T_ _o Bill, my good luck charm_ _—Rico_ _'_ stared up at them. "What is this supposed to mean?" His words were spoken low. When Bill did not answer him, he reached out and grabbed him by the remains of his shirt. " _Bill_. _Come on._ "  

He threw up his hands, and shook his head. "We were both in that trunk for a reason, Stanley. It's _fine_." 

"You _never_ told me why you were in that trunk. _Why_ were you in that trunk, Bill?" Stanley sat the gun on a crate to grab another fistful of his shirt. "What in the world did you do for him?!" 

"Stuff I'm not proud of, just like you!" Bill put his hands on Stanley's forearms and squeezed. "But we're not in any danger. I promise. Relax, okay? Everything's fine. ...Listen, I'll tell you everything. Just not now. Not with company over. They don't need to know the stuff we were in to. That's past stuff. Past stuff is dead. Dead and buried." 

"Yeah well, with you past stuff often comes up. Like the spider thing from earlier and whatever that 'Smith' jazz was. But listen. I'm not scared, I'm just... I don't know, I care about you. You're my friend. Whatever you did with Rico, you don't have to face it by yourself." Stanley shuffled his feet, and looked to the ceiling. "Don't let Stanford see that inscription. He'll get all nosey about it. Worse than me, I swear."  

"Oh, don't scare me." Bill grinned at him. "Alright, let's get back out there before they get suspicious. I mean, they've had a rough day as it is. No need to add more fuel to keyed up minds. I'll say my goodbyes, I suppose. Get back to my place. ...Alone. Alone while you all are over here, in your house full of good vibes and things like that. Together. Not alone." 

"Hey! Uh, why don't you stay over? Incase they have bad dreams, or something. Or me, since I had to listen to that Northwest guy gush about you the entire way back. That's nightmare fuel for me. By the way... You're an asshole, you know that? That's you. The biggest asshole I ever met, and I'm from Jersey for shit's sake. And you're not even sorry, it's killing me right now." 

"Oh good, I didn't want to go back home. Glad you caught my subtle hint." Bill's grin grew even wider. "Sorry about sticking you with that Northwest guy. I thought he was Fiddleford when I rescued him. Think he'll be around again?" 

"Probably not." Stanley shrugged and threw a friendlier arm back around Bill as they started back out to the front of the store. "Guys like that are all talk anyway. Not like us, we're men of mystery." He bumped Bill in the side. "We've always got bigger fish to fry anyway than rich losers. Or spiders in your case. _Ugh._  Did anyone ever tell you that you're disgusting? Just when I was almost over you eating those eye bats, you gotta give me the imagine of you chowing down on a huge spider leg, like it's Thanksgiving. I can't with you. You're my gross friend who happens to be the biggest asshole in the universe, and I am thankful every day for being stuck with you. Just don't tell anyone, or do anything that stupid again. I'll never make it to fifty at this rate." 

Bill broke out into a laugh. "I'm happy to be stuck with you too, Stanley. And don't worry, my dealing are only going to be as normal as I am from now on." 

Stanley ran a hand down his face. "You're an asshole, Bill. So uh... those wood spiders. You kept saying how they shouldn't have been where they were. Got any idea as to why?" 

"No." Bill's expression dropped into a frown. "But something wasn't _right_ in those woods, more so than usual. Don't tell your brother. I think this might be something _we_  should look into. Stanford doesn't know Gravity Falls yet. Look what happened today." 

"Eh." Stanley frowned and looked down at the ground. "Maybe. We'll keep an eye on it. You and I are no one's keepers, and that goes double for this hick town. It could have been a coincidence. Yeah, that's... that's a logical thing. It was all a coincidence." 

Bill leaned against the wall, staring at Stanley with his one eye. He pursed his lips, wearing the same doubtful expression as the other man. "Maybe you're right." He said, though neither man believed it.  

END


End file.
